Through Red Eyes
by Quadrillionaire
Summary: He hates vampires with an obsessive passion, slaughtering them every chance he got. But then what happens when he's forced to take one under his wing?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own Cirque Du Freak, both unfortunately and obviously, though I do own my lovely little OCs.**

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><p>"Hate" is a rather vague term for someone who has truly experienced it.<p>

It's a simple word, really. Anyone can say it without meaning it with a slip of the tongue, and so it is misused more than 99% of the time. Real hate is much more complicated and sticky compared to how it would be used in a political argument, or how a model might detest her life counting each and every calorie she consumes.

No, real hate is a thoroughly weaved web of ugly memories and dead emotions, crushed dreams and fraying morals. Like a snowball rolling downhill, it continues to pick up bits and pieces of anxiety, remorse, jealousy, anger, sorrow… until it stops at the very bottom of the hill, at the lowest place possible. Few have ever truly reached that point in their existence. Most that begin treading the life of hate usually lose a bit of themselves with each step they take. Most break before they reach the end. That itself may be considered an act of mercy compared to those who have the tenacity to cling to life and thrive on hate itself, growing and manipulating it so it grabs onto others, pulling them towards the same path.

So, as you can see, "hate" is a heavy word. Onto it clings countless years of pain that stains the past, present, and future. All words carry weight. Each one carries different amounts at different times, and when someone spills the wrong ones at the wrong moments, the damage is usually forgivable. It will heal, given time.

But forgivable and forgettable are not synonymous. There are some things you say that you will instantly regret, things you say that you will never be able to take back. Words are a double edged sword. They will strive to work for you. They will plot to work against you. After all, a weapon is only as good as the person who wields it.

And, for this reason, a certain vampaneze made sure to use his words carefully. He refused to toss them to the wind as if they were worth nothing, as most humans would. When he spoke, he meant every bit of what he said. There were no slips of the tongue for him. He would not let petty emotions twist what he wanted to say, or how he said it.

Perhaps this was because he had lost most of them in the course of his life. Nonetheless…

He hated vampires.

They were disgusting. Traitorous. Arrogant.

The vampaneze cracked his neck and a few other joints, satisfied with his work. Red splattered the old brick walls like Jackson Pollack had let loose some of his best art work.

He stood back and admired his mural he created with his own hands. Blood shone brilliantly in the moon's dim light, looking slick and delicious. It double coated every inch of the alleyway, filling the empty area with a disturbingly sickly sweet scent. That was enough to make any human retch from the scene, the smells, but it made the vampaneze almost drool with longing.

Still, he clamped his mouth shut and strode away after several more minutes of observing the slick, warm puddle of blood that had been pooling at his feet. There was much work to be done, and drinking from a vampire was extremely toxic to vampaneze. He had no intentions of going insane now.

_But maybe you already are, _a small voice in his head taunted.

Reit shook his head, ignoring the jeering voice. It would be foolish and embarrassing if he drove himself mad not from being poisoned, but from his own weakness.

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><p>New York City was a bustling city with too many lights and harsh sounds that were hell to the vampaneze's heightened senses. The screeches of car tires skidding on paved roads and their infernal beeping that was merely irritating to people was basically torture to the dark skinned (the man was of Spanish descent, and had naturally tanned skin that made the natural purple tint of a vampaneze almost nonexistent) night dweller. The worst, though, were the voices <em>outside<em> of his head. Did people always have to talk? Reit thought it was annoying enough in the small towns he came across in England… but _this._

The voices went on nonstop. Endless complaints from teenagers, scolding from over protective parents, clients screaming at businessmen, tourists drooling over national monuments…

"…_dammit, I told you the files, get the files! I…"_

"…_and I was like, bitch please, she don't even…"_

"…_but I want it! I WANT IT…"_

"…_that the empire state building? Wow…"_

All useless, stupid conversations that would be soon forgotten as soon as the next new item piqued their interests. Reit not only thought it was a waste of breath, but it was incredibly stupid as well. The more people spent time blabbing, the less time they spent to think. That just concluded in smaller brains and bigger mouths, which was the worst possible combination, in his opinion.

Still, he just gritted his teeth and waited for himself to fully adapt to the environment. After all, that's what his body was built for, regardless whether it was physical hardship or just his tolerance for humans (which was wearing thin).

It turned out his patience was rewarded. Unlike the more quiet towns of England, America had people everywhere, anywhere, anytime. It was like getting a free ticket to an eternal all you can eat Chinese buffet. And this also meant that vampires, attracted by the same idea, came crawling to larger cities like moths attracted to light. Two birds with one stone.

Weeks have passed since he had indulged in such barbaric glee, being able to maul a vampire in such an inhumane manner. Luckily, with his elevated hearing he had cursed in the beginning, he had overheard a television forecast about a high percentage chance of rain within the following days. Perhaps it could be used to wash away some of the blood, though in his opinion he couldn't have cared less. The alleyway was deserted; no one but drunken fools and rats wandered through, totally oblivious to the surroundings around them. The vampaneze just took the weather forecast as a sign from the vampaneze gods that he was allotted to do whatever he wanted that day, and didn't give it a second thought.

Broken glass, gutter scum, and old gum crackled under his footsteps as he weaved his way through abandoned buildings filled with the trash of human society. It didn't particularly surprise him when the smell of fresh blood wafted by his nose; violence wasn't all too uncommon around these parts. What caught his attention, however, was the familiar scent that mingled with it. Vampire blood.

He was ecstatic. Two vampires in one night was a well appreciated stroke of luck. The scent was awfully weak; he might have not caught it if he wasn't taking his time strolling through the city slums, so he thanked his gods one last time before he began his hunt for his next victim.

Weaving his way in and out, above and below evicted apartments and rotting drugstores, he kept up his steady pace, not wanting to lose his trail.

It was odd, though. At this time of night, most vampires would be up and about, not staying in one specific spot... Unless they were feeding, which explained the stench of human blood. In that case, he considered it another bonus. Reit was beginning to get a bit hungry, especially after getting rid of the first vampire. The vampaneze gods were certainly being generous tonight.

After a while he finally came to his destination. He had almost went past it a couple of times, being that all the homes in the slum looked exactly alike and were too close together.

Knocking down the door (being discrete wasn't that much of a priority. If his prey wanted to run, then so be it. A heavy chase would be good exercise), Reit strode in the old building. Dust scattered at his footsteps and rotting wood creaked dangerously under his weight. He noted to tread more carefully. It wouldn't do any good if he fell through the floor, a particularly embarrassing incident he didn't wish to repeat.

In a few seconds his highly trained ears picked up the sounds. A muffled, higher pitched warble, a kind of sound only a small child could produce. An ordinary person wouldn't have been able to distinguish the noise, but the vampaneze caught the sound as if it was in the room with him.

_Did the vampire target a child? How despicable, _he thought.

Reit swiftly followed the cries which led him into a rusty locked door. Again not caring for a subtle approach, he kicked down the door with ease, a second billow of dust covering him.

The room was completely barren except for a heavily stained, moth bitten rug. Dust had settled just about everywhere, so it was easy to see the clean swipe marks on the ground —signs of a recent struggle. It was also hard to ignore the blood. Not unlike Reit's earlier work, it was splattered on the floor, the walls, even marking some spots in the ceiling.

The gruesome scene was focused heavily in a depressing corner across the room, where a small girl was crouched over a larger figure, frantically shaking it, willing it to wake up.

"Get up… please…" she hiccupped, unable to keep the strain from her wavering voice. Reit felt a pang in his heart. Somewhere in the crevasse of his mind, he held a very similar memory.

The girl met the vampaneze's gaze, and her eyes widened, glazing over in fear. She shook the figure more vigorously, beginning to panic.

Reit began walking over to the child, unsure of what to do. He stopped, though, when it became apparent with each step he made she was feeling more and more frenzied. It wasn't his goal to terrorize her.

After a few minutes her heart rate slowed, but it was evident that she was still insecure about the red eyed man. Still, she hovered over her mother, clutching her protectively, even if she knew that the man could easily steal her away if he wanted to.

She stiffened as he came closer, though she knew if he meant harm he would have done it already. The girl was weary of strangers. Especially ones covered in blood with red eyes.

"You know she's dead, don't you?" Reit asked, trying to make her relax by using a (what he considered kind but was actually somewhat threatening) soft tone. He had never dealt with children before, and didn't understand the concept of delicacy, so he was surprised at her outburst.

"_No she's not!_" the girl screamed, anger washing out any leftover bits of fear that was left over.

The vampaneze wracked his brain for something he said wrong. He had only said the truth, hadn't he? Humans were complicated. Most of the time they wanted to hear lies, or just wanted to you to say what they wanted to hear. He always looked at that trait with a bit of contempt; humans were far too spoiled.

"Yes, she's actually quite dead, as you can so obviously see," he said, waving his hand at the blood that soaked the floor beneath them. _What a waste, _he thought, just a bit disappointed. The girl opened her mouth to continue the argument, but Reit was having none of it.

"We will _not_ waste time bickering. She is dead, and that is the end of that. Now, tell me, do you have any injuries?" he asked, scanning her carefully. No cuts that he could see, only small bruises that speckled her pale body.

The girl ignored the vampaneze and burst into tears, surprising him a second time. What had he done wrong? He was not one to lie, and this child was in denial. He was just attempting to snap her out of it.

He sighed. There would be time to deal with her at a later moment. It was foolish of him, really, to waste time idly speaking to a hysterical human when there was a vampire he had to—

A pause.

…He had ignored the possibility. The smell was strong… but he had still ignored it, nonetheless. He had ignored that the child, too, was covered in blood. He ignored that much of it was coated around her mouth. He ignored that they had locked gazes when it was much too dark for a human to see.

Reit grabbed the girl's wrists and pulled her slippery hands closer, despite her struggling.

Each fingertip carried an all too familiar scar.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Cirque Du Freak. Never did, never will.**

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><p>Reit watched the half vampire in front of him, his concern for her well being replaced by an impassive indifference. He had heard rumors of a vampire who'd recently blooded a child, but he had disregarded without a second thought. Blooding children was against both vampire and vampaneze laws, since children would make rash choices without regard for consequences.<p>

As freedom comes with the chains of responsibility, power comes with the straps of restriction. In exchange for increased senses, speed, strength, agility, and very minimal psychic powers, things such as human contact, life in the sun, loved ones, and the convenient human lifestyle exchange places. Children, no matter how headstrong, are usually devastated once they realize the extent to what they have given up.

The vampaneze's obsessive fetish for killing vampires was slowly dying down. The girl had only been blooded weeks ago; he could tell by how weak the vampire cells in her body were. She wasn't secretly older than she looked, as it was for many of their kind. All in all, the girl was still a child. Helpless, without a proper mentor to teach her the way of the night dwellers.

No proper vampire would shy away from a challenge, and even if they did, Reit would chase after them and hunt them down so they would die in shame.

But this girl here was utterly, hopelessly defenseless. Killing her would bring him no satisfaction, no pride. It would just be pathetic slaughter.

This did not, however, lessen his disgust of her kind.

"What is your name?" the vampaneze questioned in a quiet, but authoritative voice. The girl hesitated, wondering if she should stay silent and ignore him. But the tone in the red eyed man's voice was unnerving, and she decided that she didn't want to cross him after all.

"…Cecelius."

"I see. Cecelius, do you prefer living or would you rather die?"

That question certainly threw her off quite a bit. A grown man normally wouldn't ask a seven year old girl that sort of question, but then again this wasn't exactly a normal situation.

Cecelius looked down at her small, childish hands flaking off with dried blood. Now those hands were no longer that of an innocent child. She felt tainted and ugly.

To be honest, the girl felt as if she should die. She was a murderer, no matter how much she distorted the facts and scattered her memories. What right did she have to prolong her short life to see the next day when she stole that privilege away from her own mother?

Even so, the desire to live coursed through her body. Self preservation, something installed in all living animals, humans, creatures of the night. A natural instinct she could not fight.

"Cecelius wanna live…" she mumbled, self-disgust crawling down her throat.

Reit paused, and a flash of disappointment crossed his face. "…I see." He then stood and stalked away, the floorboards groaning under his weight a second time, the girl staring after him.

Glancing over his shoulder, the vampaneze added, "Well, are you just going to sit by a rotting corpse until the sun rises or are you coming with me?"

"But…"

Cecelius' gaze went to the body. A second round of emotions wracked her brain. Guilt. Shame. They clung onto her limbs and plastered themselves against her body.

All this time she had been crying not for her mother's sake, but for her own. Her own loss of her humanity, her innocence, and the only one who loved her. Not a moment was spent on mourning the realization that the woman's life had been cut short because of the girl's impulsive actions. Not a single tear was shed because it was her compassion that led to her fall. And now… And now this brave, sacrificial mother would be stripped of the dignity of a proper burial, a sendoff to her descent to the other world...

"I won't repeat myself. It's now a corpse, no longer who she had been while she was alive. The body will be safe here. It's unlikely human authorities will find it, so let us be off," Reit snapped, getting impatient with the young half vampire who had an irritating, clingy fondness for this decaying lump of human meat.

Tearing herself from the body, Cecelius decided that she would repay her mother's kindness someday. She would never, ever be able to make up for her grave mistake, but perhaps she just might be able to give unto others a fraction of what she had received.

With this promise, she blindly stumbled after the red eyed man, giving him the reins of her future and where it would lead her.

Standing by the doorway, Reit studied the child, seemingly emotionless. Although it didn't seem like it, the gears in his head were quickly beginning to turn.

No, he could not kill her now without losing his honor as a respectable vampaneze. Instead, he would train her to the best of his abilities. Like an artist chiseling a block of clay, he would erase any imperfections by molding her into his image of (if there ever was one) a respectable vampire opponent. This, of course, would take years of carving out any unnecessary human traits, poking and prodding of fresh wounds both physical and emotional, testing then barreling through her limits by throwing her into the kilns for improvisation.

Perhaps she chose to live because she thought it would have been more gratifying than tossing herself to the arms of death. But then again, as a child she probably never once thought of the gruesome fact that for a select few who bear the shackles of living, death is nothing less than bliss.

So he said with a bit of relish, these next words that left a bittersweet aftertaste.

"From now on you will be living as my vampaneze's assistant."

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><p>A knife whistled past, burying itself in the body of a great oak tree, almost severing the girl's fingers. Immediately afterwards, two more needle-like knifes follow, both leaving shallow cuts by her calves.<p>

Behind her, the tree now resembled a dart board with about a dozen or so sharp items varying from screwdrivers to cleavers sticking out in odd angles.

Cecelius winced as the next item, a sharpened fork, flew by and scathed her shoulder.

It had been several weeks since she became a vampaneze's assistant, and her body had already taken a great toll in the short amount of time. She hadn't been the most wonderful image of a healthy child before Reit picked her up, but compared to now, her previous malnourished state almost seemed perfect.

Her pale skin easily reflected dozens of cuts and bruises that had been accumulated by the "games" Reit put her through. Dark circles grew under her large, hallowed eyes from lack of proper rest. And though she was already a scrawny child, she was now steadily losing essential body fat. With each day that passed, starvation became a larger and more imminent threat.

The vampaneze, however, saw this all as fit training.

He nonchalantly flipped the page of an interesting book he'd found. Most humans were rather stupid and shallow in his opinion, but a select few did manage to come up with brilliant works, he had to admit. Shakespeare was one that he decided to give due respect ever since getting ahold of the book he was currently reading, _Macbeth. _It was a shame the man was dead. Reit thought he would have liked to meet him.

Still holding the book at hand, he absentmindedly grabbed a thick metal nail and hurled it at his assistant, fully expecting her to dodge it. It was quite evident with the following shriek that she didn't.

Reit eyed Cecelius over his book, somewhat annoyed at her incompetence. She was writhing in pain, chocking back sobs as blood heavily pumped from her punctured wrist.

_Perhaps we should continue training on another day, _he thought with mild contempt.

The vampaneze stood up and lazily stretched before bothering to heal the half vampire's various wounds that had been inflicted during the session. For a moment he wondered if he was being too harsh, but quickly waved that thought away. His master had also taught him the same way using similar methods, so he assumed that it should be completely fine.

Of course, he had totally forgotten the fact that he had been fully blooded almost immediately after his birth, and that his master only used these techniques to train only after years of honing his agility. And while Reit was a fantastic pupil, he was an equally terrible teacher, lacking both sympathy and the natural instinct of knowing when he had pushed his assistant too far.

So he was again surprised a week later when Cecelius collapsed, unable to support her own body weight.

"Get up," he commanded, prodding the half vampire with his foot.

She could only blink and stare apologetically, her throat constricted due to days of dehydration.

Although she was undeniably strengthened by the vampire cells in her body, there was only so much abuse a child's body could take before it completely broke down. Reit didn't realize this blatantly obvious fact until it was almost too late. (Luckily, he was somehow able to restore her health until it was somewhat satisfactory, and after then grudgingly kept her training in more moderate levels.)

Still, the young half vampire struggled to please her mentor, regardless of the consequences.

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><p>Out of the corner of his eye the vampaneze watched the girl as she curled up by a bush, exhausted from the day's activities, though it was only about one AM or so. Dawn was nowhere near approaching, and the stars shone brightly, silhouetting the outline of the trees in the forest.<p>

Sighing, Reit leaned against a tree and slowly slid down until he was in a comfortable sitting position.

The grass was lightly powdered with frosty dew that reflected beautifully in the moon's dim light. A cool, silent breeze weaved between the dense foliage and brushed against his dark skin teasingly. It was his ideal of a perfect break from reality. Absolute peace and tranquility blanketing the night, he could release his grip on haunting memories that tore at the barriers surrounding his scarred, weathered heart.

He never did notice the pair of red eyes that bore into him and his assistant that night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't own Cirque Du Freak. Darren Shan does. Let's all give a respectful moment of silence.**

**On another note... **

**I wrote this chapter. Thought it sucked. And had to rewrite it.**

**-+(D:)**

**I am not a happy camper. **

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><p>Cecelius was hungry.<p>

She stared up at the leafy canopy above her, squinting to catch any small beam of light that possibly filtered through. It was impossible, though. Her mentor had chosen this spot especially because the branches and vines interweaved tightly together, shielding them both from the harmful rays. Well, the rays that were harmful to Reit, anyways. She liked the sun.

Turning over to her side, she watched her sleeping mentor with curious eyes.

He seemed nicer with his eyes closed. More peaceful, maybe? When he was awake he was kind of scary. And mean. And angry. And sad. But mostly he seemed sad.

She hastily pushed that thought away.

Cecelius' internal clock told it was well into the day. Maybe seven or eight more hours until the sun went down and the moon popped up and Reit would be awake. Then they could get something to eat, if she asked the right way and he was in a good mood.

Her stomach growled.

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><p><strong>Darren's POV<strong>

I hold my breath as I scoop another dead possum from the pile of weeds. It's really gross, this job Erva and I'm stuck with. Mostly it's just hunting for food for the Little People, but at times when we can't find anything alive, road kill becomes their lunch for the day. But hey, if it lets me pull my weight at the Cirque, then I guess I can't complain.

Or that's what I thought until I peeled a dried unidentifiable mess of guts and fur from a deserted roadway. I can't help but turn a bit green as the stench fully hits my sensitive vampire nose. Times like these make me miss being human, but they come by less the longer I stay with the Cirque.

"Erva, do we have enough yet?" I call out, hoping that he'd had better luck than I did.

"…My sack's about half full, so I don't really think so," he replied.

Well, this sucks. So far I have a couple squirrels, a skunk, a possum, and that… thing I scraped off earlier. I don't even think that should seriously count, considering it's mostly just a flap of fur and gristle.

And so when I saw a huge, fat rabbit dart from under some bush, I dropped the sack and ran after it like my life depended on it. (Which it probably did, if the Little People were hungry enough.)

It had a good head start, but the rabbit was no match for a vampire. Especially an impatient one.

I dash through a wall of tall grass, now heavily relying on my hearing to track the prey down. The rustling of the plants is both annoying and distracting, but I manage to push out the sound and focus on the thumping of the rabbit's heels as it desperately flees. Its efforts are futile, though. With each second that passes my outstretched hands crawl closer and closer to it, and finally I exert some extra force and pounce forward, grappling it shortly before triumphantly snapping its neck.

That's what _would _have happened if something hadn't slammed into me all of a sudden.

I was sent flying, my breath completely knocked out of me. I felt like I'd been tackled by Steve at football tryouts. No wonder I turned to soccer instead.

I lay on my back groaning as I listen to the rabbit happily scamper away. For a minute I stay still with my eyes closed, waiting out the sore feeling in my stomach to die out.

"Darren! Darren, where are you?" I hear Erva faintly call out, and then I know it's time to get up. Part of me is hoping that he somehow found enough food to make up for my loss, but I doubt it. Lazily rubbing my eyes, I peel them open and–

"Gah!"

I instinctively back up, slamming my head into a tree.

"Ouch…"

"Sorry… are you okay?"

"Ugh. I think so…" I reply, rubbing the back of my head.

I hate those moments when you wake up and someone's face is like, an inch away from yours. (Annie used to do that to me all the time.) So, of course, that's what happened.

I was pretty surprised when I took a good look at her. She was just a kid –not that I could speak, but a kid as in she-should-be-in-elementary-school-playing-with-crayons-and-dolls kind of kid. Her dark hair was really long with dried leaves and twigs clinging onto it, and I could make out more dirt and blood than actual skin. Heavy black rings circled adverting her eyes, and I couldn't tell whether it was from abuse or lack of sleep.

"Wait, are _you _okay? Where are your parents? You're not alone, right?" I question.

"Uh huh. Cecelius is okay. And Reit's asleep and so he isn't here. But he's usually with me –just not right now," she replies, nervously studying me with her round eyes, somehow avoiding my gaze at the same time. "Cecelius got hungry and was chasing a big bunny and squashed you on accident. So Cecelius is sorry."

"Oh… that's fine. But who's Reit?"

She was about to answer, but the tall grass rattled and Erva popped through, annoyed.

"Geez, Darren, I was looking for–" he cuts himself off when he sees the wild-looking kid. "Who's she?"

The girl immediately scurries behind me, eyeing him warily. He looks a bit hurt at that; he's a nice guy and doesn't like scaring people, though it's kinda hard with his scales and all.

"Don't worry, he's a friend," I say reassuringly, and she relaxes a bit, edging forwards. She then takes her time studying Erva, cocking her head slightly.

After a moment she decides that she likes him and says, "Hi. Cecelius thinks you look cool –like a snake. Cecelius likes snakes."

Erva blinks at that for a second before grinning.

"Let's take her to the Cirque."

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><p>Cecelius bounced excitedly as she followed the two boys that she found.<p>

Usually, she didn't like meeting new people –especially ones that were bigger than her– but the one she came to know as Darren was okay because he smelled like her. It was a bit difficult to explain, but most people she smelled were very different from herself and Reit. Normal people smelled like the shampoo they washed their hair with, the tingly fabric they wore, perfume or deodorant they used, but most of all what stood out was the yummy heavy metallic scent of blood coursing through their veins.

Darren smelled like pine needles, grass, water, and dirt. And his blood smelled funny, too –like hers. Erva also smelled different, be he had a unique scent she had never come across before. He smelled kind of cold and smooth. She didn't know how else to explain it. (It was really nice, though.)

At first she was worried that he was a bad person, but that thought immediately washed away when she got to know him better. Cecelius thought that Erva was very pretty, because his scales were shiny and ranged from a light jade color to a dark, rusty green you see on healthy grass. His eyes were a resilient dark yellow like the marbles she used to play with, and his hair was also a waxy green color that reminded her of melted candles. She wished she looked like that.

"So, can you tell us where that guy named Reit is? We can take you back to him," Darren said after discussing it with Erva for a couple minutes.

"Um… I forgot. He's somewhere in there." Cecelius pointed to the ominous-looking woods they were passing. The outer hedges were interweaved with dangerous looking thorns and nettles, and the tall trees casted heavy shadows that seemed to chase away any form of sunlight. The effect was creepy enough to make their skin crawl, and the boys both knew that the chances of finding Reit were slim, at best.

"Maybe we'll just get Mr. Tall to help us out," Erva shrugged.

"Yeah, it's probably the only thing we can do. That, and get her something to eat," Darren noted after studying Cecelius. Something seemed off about her, but that thought was quickly flushed away when he saw how skinny she was. If his instinct was telling him that there was something wrong with her, he could apprehend his suspicions later. There'd really be no point if she died of starvation first.

"Yeah, something big to eat. 'Cos Cecelius's hungry," Cecelius hummed as she trailed after the snake boy, her curious eyes watching his scales glint in the sun.

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><p>Cecelius' eyes widened even more when they arrived at the camp site for the Cirque. People bustled in and out of tents, some carrying enormous pots and ladles while others barked orders and snapped at slackers. Nobody was idly sitting about; everyone did their fair share of work. Talking and laughter mixed together, and the clatter of things being dropped, passed, and tossed to one another filled the girl's ears as she soaked in the scene.<p>

"Cool, huh?" Darren asked, giving her a lopsided grin.

"Uh huh…" her eyes trailed distractedly. "Oh! Are those tents? They look funny –never been in a tent. Can we go in one?" she questioned earnestly, tugging on the snake boy's sleeves impatiently.

"Um. Sure. But didn't you want something to eat?"

"Oh yeah… forgot –Cecelius is hungry. Thanks for reminding Cecelius," she smiled and skipped off into the direction she smelled food. The two boys shared a look; she was pretty weird. But then again, who in the Cirque _wasn't_?

Cecelius was prone to wandering and running about even more than most children her age. Her natural curiosity and sense of adventure that had been restrained by Reit had stayed bottled far too long, much like a can of shaken soda. So, to account for lost time, she had barreled ahead of the other two, just nearly dodging dangerous scenarios like accidentally stepping on Erva's poisonous snakes or dawdling too close to the Wolf Man for comfort.

Everyone in the Cirque was like a close knit family, so they immediately recognized that she was a new face. As friendly as they all were, she immediately withdrew behind Darren or Erva when they came close to social or physical contact with the different performers. As rambunctious and excited she was to explore unknown territories, the same couldn't be said with people –especially with so many of them at the same time. It was extremely nerve wracking.

The only ones she didn't seem uncomfortable around were, surprisingly, the Little People who were more than annoyed at their low food rations for that day.

With a sigh they were sent out to hunt for more food after incessant prodding. Cecelius trailed after them, somewhat relieved that she could get away from all those _people_, even if the Cirque itself was quite entertaining.

At the beginning it seemed that they were having no more luck than when they first started. The traveling circus had stayed at the area for several weeks, which was a bit longer than usual. It seemed like during that period the animals had started to sense the danger of running about in the presence of a certain vampire assistant and snake boy.

But soon the trio found something much more interesting than prey.

Behind a bush sat a boy slyly observing the Cirque and its people, totally oblivious to the three pairs of eyes that were trained on him.

A mischievous smirk grew on Darren's face as he tugged at his two friends, pulling them back. After a minute of smothered chuckles and intense whispers, they separated and crept to different directions.

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><p>Cecelius squatted on the branches of a large maple tree, peering at the shyly boy's head, even if he didn't see her. Her interest was only short-lived, though. She was hardly interested in some strange newcomer that smelled like pickled onions.<p>

Still, she went along with the plan and began furiously jumping on the branch, causing leaves and all sorts of debris to dust his shoulders.

Sam looked up, startled. He could only see a massive foliage of leaves, though. Not the tiny girl who repeatedly slammed her heels against the tree's limbs, continuously clotting him with dead twigs and pieces of bark.

Suddenly he heard an intense growl from the undergrowth by his left, followed by eerie moaning.

"Who's there?" he demanded, but his voice faltered a bit. Was it his imagination, or did the sounds get closer? Louder? What were they? He'd done some geographical research; the largest animal here should be deer.

"I'm not afraid," he snapped, though his tough performance somewhat lacked in genuinity when he began to scrabble backwards, dirt digging under his nails. "You're just somebody playing a mean trick."

The trees around him rattled ferociously as Cecelius nimbly jumped from one tree to the next, her light weight allowing her to fly through effortlessly. Erva and Darren continued to moan and screech, pausing only to shake the occasional bush. Sam started to panic; eyes darting wildly, not unlike the last few moments of cornered prey.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm– "

Erva sneakily slithered behind him and curled his snake-like tongue around they boy's neck. That was all it took for him to scream bloody murder and run like the winds, much to the trio's amusement.

Sam Grest sprinted haphazardly, leaping over fallen logs and calling out for help.

_It was wrong –the research I did was wrong! There's something here, and–_

He cursed as he tripped on his untied shoelaces, sprawling into a mesh of tall grass.

_Oh nononono… They're gonna find me and then–_

"Where is he?" a voice asked, concern tinting his tone. He sounded young… In fact, he didn't sound much older than Sam. And very human.

"I can't see him," said the second voice, a slightly older one.

"Maybe we should look in the grass. He might've gotten lost," a third chimed in. To Sam's extreme annoyance and embarrassment, he could tell it was a little _girl_. He, Sam Grest, had been scared shitless of a little girl pretending to be a monster. That wouldn't do.

Quietly sneaking his way around the tall grasses, he stealthily made his way behind the three and rammed against them as hard as he could, sending them sprawling forwards in a manner not unlike he had. For a split second he was worried that he'd accidentally hurt the girl, but was relieved to see her land on safely top of a…

_Oh my God. Is that a… snake? No, it's a boy… _he thought, panic starting to rise from the back of his throat again. Instead of letting him make a fool of himself a second time, he suppressed it and pulled out his best taunting I'm-not-scared-of-you tone that had gotten him beaten up at school so many times. (As smart as he was, there were some things he never learned.)

"I got you! I got you! I saw you coming from the beginning. I was only pretending to be frightened. I ambushed you. Ha-ha!"

The three had stared at him, dumbfounded, until they broke into laughter after taking a look at themselves.

No one remembered a certain red-eyed mentor as the sun steadily sank down, shrouding the sky with darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

_Screaming –chemicals and rusty blood –maniacal laughter –blunt needles –stench of decaying flesh –more screaming –hands… pain… guilt… insomnia… insanity._

Reit woke up, haggardly gasping for breath.

_Damn it, _he thought, sweat trickling down his neck. _Damn it all._

The nightmares were coming back. Memories that he had pushed in the depths of his mind for the sake of keeping himself from falling apart. They were resurfacing with vengeance, as if angry that they'd been locked up and neglected for so many years. They were clawing their way back up into his conscious, breaking the emotional barriers that he had carefully put up, viciously eating away at the thin wall that kept him from becoming a screaming wreck. Reit had ignored it, though. After all, denial was the only thing holding up the plastic façade that he was forced to wear every day, every minute of his life.

He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

Maybe he could chase off the nightmares this time. But then they'd come back.

He used to have plenty of confidence that he'd be able to make them leave his sanity alone, but his lies were waning away with each night they came back. Every time he came back victorious, but not without receiving his fair share of equally grim losses.

Killing vampires was so much easier. There were rules that had to be followed. There was no cheating. Oxygen was necessary. Break a neck and they die. Blood was vital to keep organs working. Lose enough and they die. Bones and joints were important for movement. Dislodge them and they die.

The demons in Reit's mind, however, were so much harder to pin down, to defeat. Sometimes they bent the rules to their advantage, other times disregarding them completely. They would never truly die, just hide away and return, much stronger than they were before.

And so he turned to killing vampires.

He claimed he slaughtered them for revenge and satisfaction. A hobby, really.

But somewhere deep inside told him it was different. He didn't kill because he _wanted_ to, but because he _needed_ to. The fear of one day succumbing to his weaknesses was far too great to stop.

And maybe, just maybe he would meet a vampire strong enough to defeat him.

Paradise wasn't an option. He had committed too many wrongs in his life.

That was fine with him.

Reit wouldn't mind trudging endlessly as a spirit haunting the earth, either. At least then he could say that he had tried his best, and though his best wasn't enough he had the decency to try. He would have permission to let go, to loosen his grip on the threadbare string that kept him from falling into the madness. It was an oddly comforting thought.


End file.
